


To the Brim

by sepulchrecas



Series: Master Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sam, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Dom Dean, Drinking, Fluff and Smut, Holding, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Pet, Multiple Orgasms, Omorashi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sub Sam, Top Dean, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3180224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepulchrecas/pseuds/sepulchrecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam squirms. It’s been three hours, the longest he’s gone so far without flat out wetting himself, and he’s quickly approaching that edge and that need to go <em>now</em>. Dean won’t let him close his legs, he is forced to keep his knees spread where he kneels on the floor, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Brim

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self-indulgent. If watersports/urolagnia isn't your thing, then this work probably isn't either. Thank you so much for reading, enjoy :)

Sam squirms. It’s been three hours, the longest he’s gone so far without flat out wetting himself, and he’s quickly approaching that edge and that need to go _now_.

Dean won’t let him close his legs, he is forced to keep his knees spread where he kneels on the floor, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed.

His cock is soft between his legs, and every few minutes a trickle of piss, sometimes pre-come, will dribble onto the floor, and he’ll have to clamp down to keep it inside of him, to keep clean like his Master wants him to be.

With every movement he can literally hear the slosh of liquid inside of his stomach, and it’s the most uncomfortable he’s been in his life, it seems.

Logically he knows that’s not the truth, he’s been in worse situations, but his abdomen _aches_ so badly he doesn’t know of anything that would feel worse.

He whines high in his throat, a wordless question, but Dean shakes his head.

“Not yet. Another half-hour, and I’ll think about letting you go.” Sam’s gaze snaps up, and Dean makes an unhappy sound. “As you were, Sammy.”

“Dean --”

“No talking,” Dean snaps.

“Dean, I have to go, I can’t hold it anymore,” Sam rasps. He hasn’t talked in days, that’s not a thing he does, he’s the pet, Dean’s the Master, but right now he can’t help but speak his mind. He really can’t hold it, he can feel the twitch of his cock, the give of his bladder, and he’s about to let go all over the floor if Dean won’t let him up.

“You can, trust me.”

“Master, I really can’t. I’m about to go, I need to go to the bathroom, please,” Sam begs. Tears that are threatening to spill over are secondary to the throb in his bladder that's about to burst.

“If you have to go so bad, Sam, then do it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Dean closes the magazine he’s reading and sits up further in the chair he’s placed himself in across the room from Sam. They’re in the carpeted bedroom they share, and Sam’s in front of Dean’s bed, his Master beside the nightstand so he’s facing him.

If he goes right now, he knows Dean will make him scrub it out of the carpet, and that’s really not something he’s interested in.

He knows they decided four hours, but he’s only just holding on as it is, he can’t make it another fucking _hour_.

“If you go I’ll clean it up, Sam. I don’t want you to be hurting, let go.”

“Then take me to the bathroom, please, Master, please.”

“No.”

There’s a note of finality in the word, and Sam’s up-tight stance loosens, his shoulders slump, and this time he hangs his head because of his embarrassment.

“Please,” he whimpers, and Dean makes a clicking sound with his tongue.

“Fine. I’ll take you to the bathroom, but you get five seconds and another hour, or you go here and that’s it, you’ll be done and we can have some more play time.”

Sam debates it, but he doesn’t have a choice because his bladder decides it’s time to give out. He doubles over and tries to stop the leak, bears down to stop it, god, please just stop it, but he can’t.

He watches as his piss soaks through the carpet, clear from all the water he drunk earlier.

It’s a full two minutes before the stream tapers and then dies out. That relief feels just as good as an orgasm he’s not allowed to have, and he groans.

He didn’t remember what it felt like to be empty, and it feels _so good_. He shifts away from the wet carpet.

Dean walks around the puddle to get to Sam, and he combs his fingers through his long hair. Sam leans into the touch, and he lets his body relax fully now, sits back on his heels, hands pawing at Dean’s jeans when he gets close enough.

“See, Sammy? I could wait, and you couldn’t? Mm, you’re still a good pet. If you drink all of it,” Dean says, unzipping his jeans to get his cock out through the slit in his briefs, “I’ll think about letting you come. Maybe I’ll fuck you. Would you like that?”

Sam nods his head wildly, eager to please, willing to do anything to get Dean’s cock in him.

He mouths over the head, but stops when Dean flicks his forehead.

“You want a mouthful, pet? I’ll give it to you, open wide, but don't suck.”

Sam’s jaw drops, and he relaxes his tongue, forces it onto the bottom of his mouth so he can catch the stream of Dean’s piss, so he can drink it down.

There’s a distinct smell of Dean that’s always there, but right now instead of just smelling it faintly, he can _taste_ it, and that makes his cock twitch.

But he wasn’t told he could get hard, so he wills those thoughts away and focuses on swallowing periodically so nothing more gets on the floor.

Dean doesn’t go as much as he did himself, but he didn’t drink before holding; however, Sam’s stomach is still pleasantly full by the time his Master finishes.

Dean sighs happily, a dopey looking grin making his lips turn up at the edges, and Sam feels his cock starting to harden in his throat.

“You know how fucking hot you look like that, eyes all big staring up at me like I hung the moon? You want some come, Sammy? God, you look so hungry for it. Fuck, you can come if you want, as many times as you want, that was perfect, pet, come on, get hard for me.” Sam does as he’s told, and his cock rises to curve towards his belly, flushed almost immediately a bright red. “I’m going to come in your mouth and fill you up, pet, just like you should be.”

Sam closes his eyes and his breath is hot around Dean’s cock as he comes, adding to the puddle on the floor, and Dean groans lowly.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen that face, pet. Maybe I should let you come more often.”

 _Yes_ , Sam wants to hiss.

“Again,” Dean commands, and his cock hardens against his will, almost painfully, but his body reacts to Dean’s words like it should, so Sam’s not upset by it. “Oh god, Sam, keep doing that.”

Sam suckles at Dean’s cock, takes him all the way down his throat and swallows around him. He sucks at the crown and licks into Dean’s slit, sucks on the thick veins underneath Dean’s foreskin that he pulls back to better pleasure his Master.

When Dean starts to come he sucks and sucks, trying to get all he can, and he shows Dean his mouthful before swallowing.

“Good boy,” he pants. “Come.”

Sam holds onto Dean’s hips and rests his head against his Master’s thigh as he orgasms. It’s been a few weeks, and it feels good to be letting out some pent up sexual frustration. He comes and comes, and he ruts against Dean’s boot to get off a little better.

Dean has to carry him to the shower because he’s too tired to move his limbs.

Dean ends up filling the tub and slipping in behind Sam to wade in the warm water. Dean wraps his arms around the slight swell of his stomach, and Sam moans.

“You want another one?” Dean asks, thumbing over Sam’s slit, and he keens. He’s allowed to come three times? It must be Christmas.

Dean rolls his balls in his large, warm, calloused palm, and then he’s jerking Sam off so well, it won’t take him more than a minute to orgasm.

The warm water is heightening the sensations, and he comes, hitting himself in the chest, but Dean just washes it away, starts to finger shampoo and conditioner through his hair while Sam calms down.

He lets his body go lax, lets his Dom, his Master, take care of him.

Dean kisses the back of his neck, and then sucks a bruise there, claiming Sam as his own.

"Do you want to go to bed, pet?"

Sam gathers all his strength to nod his head. His eyelids are drooping, and his muscles are relaxed from the bath and coming three times, when he usually only gets to once a month.

Dean picks him up and rinses him off with the shower-head, and then he drains the dirty water from the tub. He helps Sam over the edge so they can dry off and get into bed.

His Master lays down towels on the floor, and steps on them so they absorb what has soaked through the liquid-resistant fibers of the carpet.

He throws the dirtied cloths into the bathroom to be dealt with later, and then he climbs into bed with Sam. He snuggles close to his Master, taking full advantage of being let up onto the bed to cuddle with him, maybe to sleep here, too, instead of in his own, smaller bed next to his Master’s -- his pet bed.

“I like you here in my arms,” Dean whispers, kissing the top of his head before Sam hears little bear-cub like snores fill the empty space left behind with the silence of sleep.

Sam drifts half under throughout the night, but he’s warm and content, sated and full.

He surfaces when Dean wakes, and they share many deep, sweet kisses despite the morning breath.

“I love you,” Sam breathes, and Dean grins against the skin of his throat.

“I love you, too, pet. I’d like to make love to you, can I?” Dean asks, sucking on his earlobe, and Sam’s eyelids flutter closed, and his mouth parts on a sigh of ecstasy as Dean begins to pull on the skin of his cock.

“Please.”

“Good boy. You can still come as you please, Sammy, you deserve it.”

Dean leans over him to grab a bottle of lube, and he slicks his hand before fitting his palms against Sam’s ass cheeks, spreading them, and then he slips a finger into Sam’s hole to spread the cold lube around.

A second finger is pushed into him when there’s enough lube for it.

Then three.

And then four.

Sam rides Dean’s hand. It’s been too long since he’s had anything bigger than a plug, and it feels better than he remembers it feeling. He’s sensitive from yesterday, and so he figures that plays into why he’s about to come with just four fingers in his ass.

“Need a cock, baby? Don’t worry, you’re almost ready.”

“Please.”

“You’re needy today, I’m sorry I haven’t been home lately, pet, you know work is getting tougher this time of year with all the clients that need help getting their claims resolved.”

“I know.”

“Good boy, Sammy. Are you going to come on my hand?”

Sam knows he was about to, but he’s since forgotten about it in favor of watching Dean watch him. Now though, his attention is brought back to his leaking cock, pre-come dripping down the shaft to slick the slide of Dean’s palm further.

He orgasms all over his Master’s stomach, and Dean drags his fingers through it after Sam’s finished and panting.

He waits for his pet to come down before moving his fingers again, stretching Sam slowly, ever so slowly, just how he likes.

Dean removes his hand and replaces it with the blunt crown of his cock, and Sam bears down on the head, trying to get more in him.

“Look at you just sucking me right in, Sam. Greedy little hole you have.” Sam whines. “Ah -- you’re so tight.”

Dean bottoms out with a quick thrust of his hips, and Sam buries his face in Dean’s shoulder. He flips them over so Sam’s under him, legs wrapped around his waist.

"Hnnng," Sam moans as Dean thrusts in deep. It feels so good to be so full, and he wants to feel like this all the time, but he knows Master doesn't want him coming all the time, and he would be.

He grunts and groans as Dean picks up the pace until it's almost painful.

His cock hits Sam's prostate, and the head jabs at his full bladder.

"I'll take you to the bathroom after I'm done, baby, and then maybe I'll suck you off. I'm feeling -- fuck -- generous today. Don't get hard Sammy, or you won’t be able to go.”

Sam tries so desperately to get his cock to soften, but he can’t not get hard with Dean’s breath ghosting over his neck, with the squish of lube as he thrusts his hips, and the tug of his bladder.

He’s only able to get to about half-hard because he needs to piss so badly, but it’s good enough that Dean teases him about it until he comes, and then it’s just moaning.

Sam whines and thrusts back on Dean when he stops his movements.

His bladder is aching again, and after holding yesterday, it’s not healthy for him to do it again. His Master knows that, and he helps Sam out of bed and into the bathroom as soon as they can both move again.

He hooks his arm under Sam’s and across his chest, and his other hand grips his cock and aims it at the porcelain bowl in front of them.

He sleepily kisses Sam’s neck, and that makes him tense up further.

“Come on, Sammy, let go.”

“Can’t.”

“Again, Sam? We’ve been over this --”

“No, I . . . I’m too hard, I can’t go.”

Dean snorts against his neck, and slides his soft cock between Sam's slick cheeks.

"Go now or not at all, Sammy, final offer."

"Master," Sam tries. "Please let me come and then I can go."

"Good boys don't get hard, Sam," is Dean's reply.

Sam tries again to go, but his cock is throbbing in time with his bladder that's full and burning.

"Please, I can't hold it again."

"I think you can."

"No, Master, please, please."

His thighs shake, and his knees are buckling. But the harder his bladder beats in time with his heart, the softer his cock becomes.

Dean aims his cock back at the toilet as he begins to piss in earnest, letting all his muscles relax. After a minute, the stream is still going strong.

"Still goin', Sammy? Shit, safe-word out next time, that had to be hurtin', pet. You almost done?" When Sam shakes his head, Dean whistles lowly.

"Dean," Sam gasps, and Dean pulls Sam closer, runs his hand through the stream of piss.

"M'right here."

“Dean.” Sam can’t stop himself from saying it.

He needs his Master closer. For some reason this seems a million times more intimate than anything else they’ve done in the past.

“Damn, Sam, you got a lot in you, don’t you?” Dean presses down on his stomach, just over his bladder, and Sam groans lowly as the last of him is drained. “Steady, pet, keep yourself up.”

Dean moves to clean up the mess they both just made, when Dean trailed his fingers through Sam’s piss.

Sam braces himself on the wall and breathes deeply, trying to keep his cock soft, but now that his bladder is empty for the most part, his mind has no where else to focus except on the curve of Dean’s waist and the sweat clinging to his Master’s skin.

“You’re not allowed to come again, pet, sorry, I think that’s enough for right now.”

Sam nods his head. Yesterday and today was a lot, he’s not used to coming so much at one time, only once every once and a while, and his stomach almost hurts thinking about how much he has when he’s not supposed to.

“Hey, I told you you could, pet, don’t worry.” Dean leans in and kisses him hard on the mouth. “I love you, now let’s get back into bed because I’m fuckin’ tired, and I bet you are, too. I’ll even let you have the good pillow.”

Dean helps Sam limp back into the room, his ass sore and his abdomen muscles still twitching and sensitive.

His Master tucks him into bed, curls up around him, and Sam dreams of nothing better than being right there.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://www.invictus-impala.tumblr.com)   
>  [My Other Ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/invictusimpala)


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